Demonstration
by Poisoned Pellet
Summary: The Amelia Peabody Series.  I sometimes wish Amelia would suffer a brief apoplexy and forget about Emerson for a moment...


Finally! Sethos and Amelia together! The story we've all been waiting for!!!! No…no? Just me? Sure, I love Amelia and Emerson, but we get enough of them in the books. I often wish Amelia would suffer a brief apoplexy and forget about Emerson for a moment. Time for the man we (I) _really _adore to shine. Yes, I know this doesn't sound exactly like the books…but hey, that's what fan fiction is for. This takes place during _The Ape Who Guards the Balance_. On a particularly violent, rainy evening, Bertha captured Amelia and Sir Edward, tied them up, and left them in a room; but Sethos comes to the rescue, arriving "drenched as if he had just emerged from the river. His flannel shirt and trousers clung to his body and arms." (Breathe, ladies breathe.)

I'm afraid all these wonderful characters and settings belong to the admirable Elizabeth Peters/Barbara Michaels/Barbara Mertz.

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"That is a damned peculiar relationship; I don't doubt she is devoted to Father, but she's always had a weakness for the rascal."

_-He Shall Thunder in the Sky_

Sethos had freed Sir Edward, who, after a graceful bow to me, climbed out of the window into the driving rain. I was half expecting the man to salute his chief before departing, which would look exceedingly ridiculous, for Sethos' disguise this evening was none other than Sir Edward. Imagine saluting yourself. Sethos was in the process of liberating me from my ties with a steel strip retrieved from an ingenious device in the sole of his shoe. I noticed we were now quite alone…together.

I disdained the hand he offered me to help me rise, wishing to show I was competent enough on my own. However, I had not counted on the fact that my limbs had by now grown quite numb and I would have fallen had Sethos not caught me in his arms.

He was still extremely wet. The moisture in the fabric of his shirt soaked into my thin frock. For a moment he pressed me close, and I felt his chest rise in a long pent breath. I felt his strong, hard muscles tense against my frame. He let his breath out and turned his head, pressing his lips to my bruised wrist. "You will forgive the liberty, I trust, and remember that it is the only one I have ventured to take."

I cannot in good reason ascertain what prompted the next words to come out of my mouth. All I know is it was something that had crossed my mind a few times before. "Yes, and why is that?" My words had an edge to them I did not expect, and they stopped Sethos, who had begun to pull me toward the window. "For a man who claims such unmatched, adored passion and devotion, you certainly have not demonstrated this very well."

"You doubt my passion?" Sethos inquired, "You feel my love for you has not been adequately expressed?"

The sound of his voice and the severe look in his eyes made me think my outburst had been in error. And yet, I was not afraid of what I knew must come. I stared boldly into those ambiguously colored eyes.

"You know how I hate to leave you feeling less than satisfied," he continued in that same tone, "For you, dear Amelia, I will fully demonstrate the passion burning inside of me for only you."

His one hand was still holding my arm, supporting me. The other went to the back of my head and his lips met mine in a searing kiss.

Sensation had begun to return to my limbs, but at that moment they once again lost their strength. My entire being felt weak, for every nerve was focused on that one point where Sethos' lips connected with my own. Suddenly I felt a hard surface against my back. Sethos had led us to the wall, and none too soon, for I felt I could not stand on my own for much longer.

We have come to the part of my narrative that I find hard to confess, even in the confines of my private journal. It was almost as if my appendages possessed intellect, they would move not by my provoking, but on their own accord. I felt my arms rise up around Sethos' neck, my fingers run through his hair (or wig, rather), my lips respond to his. And when he sensed my reactions, Sethos increased the intensity of the kiss, which I thought not possible. Coherent thought, if I ever possessed any, fled my head long ago. So close was our proximity that I was now thoroughly soaked, soaked with both rainwater and some indescribable emotion. Sethos' hands left their initial positions to explore elsewhere. Those well-tended hands traveled upwards and entangled themselves in my hair, which had loosened due to the many hairpins I extracted while attempting to pick the lock on the handcuffs that bound me earlier. His hands slid down my sides, fully tracing my figure and came to rest on my waist. His lips went to my temple, the outside corner of my mouth, and behind my ear. I gasped a shuddering breath and managed to say, "We should probably be escaping from this building soon. I expect there will be someone to check in shortly."

"Lord," Sethos breathed heavily in my ear, "You are incorrigible, my dear. Do you never cease being sensible?"

"Well, I do believe I am not so levelheaded at this—"

He seized my face in his hands and our mouths met once again, hindering my reply. He stepped closer still and I could feel his toned body all down the length of mine. I doubt a single sliver of light could escape between us. Great waves of heat were coursing through me; I am quite sure I heard the faint sizzle of steam rising off our still wet forms.

It was Sethos who finally broke away and said in a voice an octave lower than usual, "But you are right, as you typically are, Amelia dear. And as much as I have enjoyed this…interval, we best be going. Follow me."

He guided us out the window, into the pounding rain, and up and down the streets, mostly down, which would result in a face full of mud. By the time Sethos left me outside Abdullah's house I resembled something Ramses used to dig out of the garden when he was very young, and in all probability smelled much the same. My pulse was beating rapidly, whether from the laborious trek or from the preceding interlude I could not say for sure. As the door opened and the faces of Abdullah and Daoud peered at me, I made a mental note to edit certain scenes from the account I would later give Emerson and the children of this night.


End file.
